"You can safely assume that you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.”
--Anne Lamott

"We are not special. We are not crap or trash, either. We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens.”
--Chuck Palahniuk

"Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes."
—Frieda Norris

...Created 2009-12-09 22:18:45

Journal: Fuck My Life...-------------------------------------------

Mood: Depressed

Sanctuary of the Dead
Friday, 27 November 2009
3:06 PM

:The Weeping Eyes of Woe:
-By mojymo-

Fuck my life. And do it without the condom.
I don't mind the impregnancy of a lover's woe breaching the egg of my heart.
Don't bother making pleasantries before the penetration.
My tears are dagger enough to mutilate these paling cheeks
that have lost their passion.

"Woe is me" and "All is lost!"

And blahblahfuckingblahblah.

My sorrow is the liquid within my veins,
and the condensation of his breath
carries the blades to its release.

Fuck boyscotts.
To be a man of the wild, one must have no boundaries.
MY man IS the wild, and beneath his breast
a heart beats its nonexistence.
And not even the flood of all his ex-lovers' tears
can smash it back in to being.

The soulful utterance I cried without the bounds
of caution months prior to this death
has fallen on the ears of demons
who have burned the scrolls of joy I read and read again.

So fuck my life.
There's no need to be polite
before the weeping eyes of woe.

End: 3:24 PM

...Created 2009-11-27 14:36:02

Journal: Fuck My Life...-------------------------------------------

Mood: Depressed

Sanctuary of the Dead
Friday, 27 Novemeber 2009
3:06 PM

:The Weeping Eyes of Woe:
-By mojymo-

Fuck my life. And do it without the condom.
I don't mind the impregnancy of a lover's woe breaching the egg of my heart.
Don't bother making pleasantries before the penetration.
My tears are dagger enough to mutilate these paling cheeks
that have lost their passion.

"Woe is me" and "All is lost!"

And blahblahfuckingblahblah.

My sorrow is the liquid within my veins,
and the condensation of his breath
carries the blades to its release.

Fuck boyscotts.
To be a man of the wild, one must have no boundaries.
MY man IS the wild, and beneath his breast
a heart beats its nonexistence.
And not even the flood of all his ex-lovers' tears
can smash it back in to being.

The soulful utterance I cried without the bounds
of caution months prior to this death
has fallen on the ears of demons
who have burned the scrolls of joy I read and read again.

So fuck my life.
There's no need to be polite
before the weeping eyes of woe.

End: 3:24 PM

...Created 2009-11-27 14:35:17

Journal: Fuck My Life...-------------------------------------------

Mood: Depressed

Sanctuary of the Dead
Friday, 27 Novemeber 2009
3:06 PM

Fuck my life. And do it without the condom.
I don't mind the impregnancy of a lover's woe breaching the egg of my heart.
Don't bother making pleasantries before the penetration.
My tears are dagger enough to mutilate these paling cheeks
that have lost their passion.

"Woe is me" and "All is lost!"

And blahblahfuckingblahblah.

My sorrow is the liquid within my veins,
and the condensation of his breath
carries the blades to its release.

Fuck boyscotts.
To be a man of the wild, one must have no boundaries.
MY man IS the wild, and beneath his breast
a heart beats its nonexistence.
And not even the flood of all his ex-lovers' tears
can smash it back in to being.

The soulful utterance I cried without the bounds
of caution months prior to this death
has fallen on the ears of demons
who have burned the scrolls of joy I read and read again.

So fuck my life.
There's no need to be polite
before the weeping eyes of woe.

End: 3:24 PM

...Created 2009-11-27 14:34:35

Journal: Fuck My Life...-------------------------------------------

Mood: Overwhelmed

Sanctuary of the Dead
Friday, 27 Novemeber 2009
3:06 PM

:The Weeping Eyes of Woe:
-By mojymo-

Fuck my life. And do it without the condom.
I don't mind the impregnancy of a lover's woe breaching the egg of my heart.
Don't bother making pleasantries before the penetration.
My tears are dagger enough to mutilate these paling cheeks that have lost their passion.

"Woe is me" and "All is lost!"

And blahblahfuckingblahblah.

My sorrow is the liquid within my viens,
and the condensation of his breath
carries the blades to its release.

Fuck boyscotts.
To be a man of the wild, one must have no boundaries.
MY man IS the wild, and beneath his breast
a heart beats its nonexistence.
And not even the flood of all his ex-lovers' tears
can smash it back in to being.

The soulful utterance I cried without the bounds
of caution months prior to this death,
has fallen on the ears of demons
who have burned the scrolls of joy I read and read again.

So fuck my life.
There's no need to be polite
before the weeping eyes of woe.

Yes, people, that is how it went down. About a year later, we are now dating. ^_^ He will always be Blando to me.

No more loneliness.
Or envy.

Purely liberating.

That was the good news.

The bad news: One of my rats, Alistair, died last night. He was the youngest of the two. Not even a year old. R.A.T.

-mo-

...Created 2009-09-26 20:40:52

Journal: Allen Ginsberg-------------------------------------------

Mood: Thinking...

Ginsberg in the 50s

A brief excerpt from David Burner's Making Peace with the Sixties (Princeton University Press, 1996):

Ginsberg's stay in the mental ward was not intended to help him realize his desire for life to be a "sweet humane surprise." Ginsberg tried to conform, returned after several months to Paterson, dated women, and found a job. He was miserable until he moved to California in 1954 and began seeing a $1 an hour psychiatrist at the university in Berkeley. In San Francisco Ginsberg saw another psychiatrist, Philip Hicks, who asked him what he would like to do.

"Doctor," as Ginsberg recalls his answer, "I don't think you're going to find this very healthy and clear, but I really would like to stop working forever--never work again, never do anything like the kind of work I'm doing now--and do nothing but write poetry and have leisure to spend the day outdoors and go to museums and see friends. And I'd like to keep living with someone--maybe even a man--and explore relationships that way. And cultivate my perceptions, cultivate the visionary thing in me. Just a literary and quiet city-hermit existence. Then he said "Well, why don't you?" I asked him what the American Psychoanalytic Association would say about that, and he said . . . "If that is what you really feel would please you, what in the world is stopping you from doing it?"

Source: http://www.writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/50s/ginsberg50s.html

...Created 2009-09-06 22:50:29

Journal: Bad, Mojy!!-------------------------------------------

Mood: DANG IT!

Well, this is a gripping read, nice wordage and rhyme, and I like the angels crying thing, because of the context and repeating lines coinciding, it doesn't come out as cliché at all, like it could if used in something like, your heart was broken by love and all the angels were crying, as a passing reference... I don't do "negative" but even if I did, I wouldn't have anything to say negatively towards this. It was like a mystery, too, because you didn't give much away... it could apply to a murder, a social wrong, or even in a political sense... but I don't know which, I'm guessing a personal level. That it can stretch to any, shows a good depth.

All in all, I enjoyed this, a wonderful first read on my first night back in awhile!
| Posted on 2009-07-08 00:00:00 | by grey_girl | [ Reply to This ] [ PM ]

Just look at who gave me this comment!! Omfg, am I retarded?! Do you have ANY idea how shitty I feel right now?!?

She left this on "The Angels Cry Tonight," a poem that I wasn't incredibly fond of myself (but reading the 2 comments, made me like it a bit more), and I'm hoping to whatever is out there that I responded accordingly, b/c if I didn't, then I'm a bitch.

This is terrible...

If she reads this, then I'm apologizing. Not b/c I see you left a nice comment so long ago but b/c I've realized that I started some really stupid shit. Discard all the shit I said b/c I didn't have to right to say it. I was very sensitive over your comment, but I had no right to be at all. Wish I would have handled it better.

-mo-

...Created 2009-09-04 17:46:54

Journal: -------------------------------------------

Mood: Sigh...

On my page...What does it mean by "shiny objects?" I've seen nothing shiny on this site...Must I be blind to diamonds and jewels and shining trinkets that interest me not?

Please, remove my ignorance, will ya?

Thanks.

-mo-

...Created 2009-09-01 23:12:31

Journal: IM Convo-------------------------------------------

Mood: AWESOME!

ME/Rchelzer: What?! You're afraid of looking gay cuz you write?! Fuck that, man! That's not gay! It takes balls to have a brain and the ability to use it in order to write something that makes you look smart. Most straight guys stare at a piece of paper and imagine creamy skin and boosted jell-o tits. A gay guy looks at a piece of paper and sees a fancy boarder and a fantasy with Tarzan. A REAL man looks at the paper and sees that it's a piece of freaking paper and is used for writing some good shit down.